Call Me When You're Sober
by Nardini's Suck
Summary: Story based on Evanesence song but is not a song fic. Post HalfWit. Cameron takes job at Penn after House's actions become too painful to watch. House begins hallucinating, can he make it without her? HouseCameron. Rating will eventaully become MATURE.
1. Chapter 1

"Don't cry to me 

_If you loved me_

_You would be here with me_

_You want me, come find me_

_Make up your mind"_

_Call Me When You're Sober – Evanescence _

Disclaimer: Song nor show belong to me.

The wind cascaded the down pouring rain in sheets around the street. Litter from said streets flew haphazardly around, providing a little color in the otherwise unpenetratable gray that was the rain. The only movement from outside were the blurs of cars brave enough to weather the storm, literally. Chase, Foreman, Wilson, and Cuddy had called it a day hours ago and like a foolish man he had opted to stay at the hospital, catching up on the paperwork that his former duckling used to do for him.

He sighed at the realization that it was inevitable that he stay the night, he had driven his bike into work and cheated an old woman out of the last handicapped parking spot in front of the doors. The seats were soaked since the weather had turned from seventy degrees and sunny to flood like rain while he was overseeing an operation on his current patients brain. "Karma's a bitch." He mumbled to himself as he took a seat behind his desk before pulling a bottle from his pocket and dry swallowing two Vicodin.

The door to the terrace remained open as a clap of thunder resounded throughout the office and a bolt of lightning illuminated the city around him as if it were high noon. His elbows came to rest on the arms of his chair and he laced his fingers together in front of him, tapping his index fingers together as he watched. No surprise registered on his face at the ferociousness of the thunder and lightning that ensued for the next hour, neither did the sound of his office door opening some time later.

His fingers, instead of tapping together were now locked tightly in one another. His jaw set painfully tight, his breathing came in short gasps, his eyes became hard, and the pain in his leg turned finally subsided to a dull throb as he braced himself for a different type of pain. "What are you doing here?" He barked as she stopped just behind him.

"What am I ever doing here?" She asked as if she would rather be somewhere else.

"What do you want?" He asked softly, avoiding her completely.

"You already know the answer to that." She replied coyly as she looked down at his clenched jaw.

"Then why is it so difficult for you to reply?" He asked as he began to turn slowly to face her.

"When has it ever been my decision what I want?" She answered with yet another question.

"Why do you always answer me with a question? I'm tired of this damn it!" He exclaimed as his chair finally faced her, his eyes set on the floor.

"Then stop." She replied, dropping to her knees in front of him, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"I can't…" He replied softly, his eyes softening at the sight of her in front of him, soaking wet. Shaky hands sought hers, bringing them to his face and placing them on either cheek, needing to feel her soft hands on his skin. "I miss you too much." He revealed.

"Then do something about it." She answered just as softly, standing to her feet and removing her left hand from his face but allowing her right to trail slowly down the gentle coarseness of his unshaven face. He kept her gaze, eyes pleading, arms reaching for her. She stepped back from him, slowly easing towards the door.

"Why do you always say that?" He asked roughly, disappointment etched all over his face as her hand pushed against the door, allowing her to take a step into the hallway.

"Because it's the answer you don't want to hear." She smiled as a bolt of lightning caused him to jump in his chair, breaking her gaze as she evaporated into thin air. His hands immediately came up to rub his eyes as he squinted at the door.

"I'm losing it." He mumbled, staring down at the floor and feeling his face for water which could verify that she had indeed been here, that he wasn't hallucinating. No such luck was offered him and he slowly slumped in his seat, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he scanned his office, still unable to accept the fact that he was daydreaming, again. '_She felt so real.' _He told himself, bringing his hands to his face where he would've sworn her hands had been not moments ago. '_So warm.'_

Things had not been the same for the two months since he had seen her last. As the memory flooded his mind he stared off into space and let the evening replay itself once again in his head.

A tentative knock resounded throughout his apartment at around three a.m. and instead of yelling at the person on the other side of the door he limped his way over, knowing without question that it was **her**. 

"What do you want?" He asked as he swung the door open and leaned against the door frame. "Here to yell and cuss at me into the night?"

"_No." She replied, her voice small as she stared down at her shoes. "I'm here to say goodbye."_

"_Where are you going?" He asked, squinting inquisitively at her. _

"_I thought I told you already." She replied, her voice rising._

"_You seriously aren't considering-"_

"_The considering part was over two hours ago House, my letter of resignation is already on your desk." She interrupted. _

"_What the fuck is your problem?" He replied. "I'm not dying so now you can't get off on the fact so you're leaving?"_

"_What the fuck is **my **problem? My problem is that I have a boss whom I care more about than either he or I care to hear about wanting to get his brain laced so that he could stay permanently high! My problem is that I have finally realized that you really don't care about me, that this is a one sided thing that I should have been over a year and a half ago. I can't be anywhere near you…it broke my heart to hear you tell us that tonight and I can't stay and watch you try to do something else to yourself. You're not worth the pain."_

"_If I'm not worth it then why have you put up with me?" He replied softly, eyeing her intently._

"_I guess a part of me wanted to believe that you would wake up one day and realize that you have feelings for me."_

"_Cameron…" He trailed, only to be hushed by her hurt stare as she finally looked him in the eyes._

"_Don't House. Just…I already have three applications on your desk of those I think can handle the job. Do yourself a favor and hire someone of the male gender." His only response was a nod as he looked her over._

"_I'll keep that in mind." He replied as she broke eye contact and glanced down at the ground._

"_I guess I'll be seeing you then." She said, lingering for a moment in contemplation before leaning up to kiss him softly on the cheek. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to him, his mouth hanging dangerously close to hers. _

"_Were we not in this same position not four hours ago?" He smirked, looking down at her eyes that looked to him like a deer caught in headlights. _

"_House…don't, I can't…" She stammered, pulling herself from her embrace and stepping backwards down the hallway, the gleam on unshed tears in her eyes glistening in the light._

"_Your job will be waiting on you when you get tired of Penn." He called to her, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her watch him as she backed towards the door. _

"If you ever get tired of hunting for a **drug **to get you high then give me a call." She replied quietly, turning and opening the door. As he opened his mouth to respond she turned to give him one last fleeting look, the tears streaming down her face and the pain in her eyes silencing him as she gave a half-wave and took out the door.

Over the past two months he had imagined what his next move should have been as she left. Ninety-nine percent of them ended with him chasing her (as quickly as his bum leg could move him) down and informing her that she was his drug, that so long as she was with him he could live without the Vicodin and be perfectly….happy. The one percent involved screwing her right there in the door of his apartment, the result of a late-night of drinking and renting a porn.

The truth was still as obvious now as it had been the last sixty-five days and every day since she had left there wasn't a day that he didn't hallucinate about her. Most nights his visions were so vivid, so detailed, that he found himself rushing to get home and sleep so that he could dream for fifteen-thirty seconds and receive a second chance with her, one that seemed play itself out over a lifetime in his imagination.

Sighing as another clap of lightning lit up his office he made a move to the couch and after popping two more Vicodin, settled down so that he could make his way back to her.

A/N: Five chapter story. My muse is apparently going hay wire seeing as I have about six other stories in House and GG that need finishing, intended as a one-shot but will be mulit-chaptered SMUT. Review please and tell me if you like where it could be going. Another interesting tidbit that I learned today from my oh-so-wise friends. A person's dreams only last fifteen-thirty seconds each! I was AMAZED because it seems that they last a lifetime.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Not my best work, sorry it took so long to post, I'll try to do better : )

Disclaimer: Not Mine…

Unlike the comfort of his own bedroom House was not blessed with dark curtains at the office that prevented sunlight from filtering into the room early the next morning. Groaning in pain and exhaustion his right hand immediately sought for the contents of his jacket pocket currently positioned on the floor beneath him. Sighing in relief as his hand struck gold he popped the lid off the bottle and swallowed two Vicodin, thanking all things holy that he had had the forethought to place the jacket in a handicapped accessible space.

Grimacing at the taste of the bitter pills along with his morning breath he could only groan when it dawned on him that he was indeed at work with no chance of sleeping in. Rubbing his eyes harshly as the pain in his leg subsided he managed to open his eyes and spy out his bag of extra clothes sitting in the corner of his office. Slowly sitting up on the couch he willed himself over to the bag and after grabbing his cane made his way to the door of the office, noting that it was only seven-thirty.

Pressing the down button for the elevator he waited patiently as the doors opened before stepping on to an empty cart. Reaching the bottom floor about a minute later he limped his way to the locker room where he wasted no time in grabbing a towel and stripping, his bag and cane forgotten on the floor as he stepped into a hot shower.

Lifting his neck to bare the heat of the water he sighed and ran his hands up and down his face and then through his hair. Turning his head from left to right he was awarded with a loud crack he sighed as his bones popped but no relief from the tension in his neck was rewarded. Leaning against the wall with one arm as the water poured over him he was shocked when a pair of arms wrapped around his frame and rested on his stomach.

"What now?" He asked as if this were an everyday occurrence.

"What, you're not even going to turn to face me?" She whispered, chills running over his body despite the heat of the water pouring down on him.

"What good would it do, you'll be gone in a minute anyway." He shrugged.

"Who says?" She replied, bringing her hands to his shoulders and turning him to face her.

"You said when you left." He sneered, looking into her eyes, ignoring the pain held there. She sighed and pressed her naked form against him. "Don't do that." He barked as her hands came to rest on either side of his face as she prepared herself to kiss him by standing on her tip-toes.

"Why not? I'll only be a minute anyway." She replied, mimicking their kiss two months ago by running her hand across his lips as he dropped her gaze and stared down at the floor.

"It hurts too much." He revealed softly, his eyes making their way up her naked form as the steam rose around them. This caused her hands to still and she grabbed both cheeks and pulled his gaze up to meet hers.

"If it hurts then fix it." She demanded. "You _are_ a doctor."

"I tried to fix it and you left." He replied, eyeing his deformed leg.

"Is that what you're talking about?" She asked, her face contorting in anger. "Your leg?" He was silent for a moment before shaking his head and pulling away from her. "Why are you acting this way? You've never let things go like this."

"I know."

"After I resigned the first time you wouldn't leave me alone, what's changed?"

"I don't know." He replied through gritted teeth, tired of the conversation.

"I do." She replied, turning and making her way out of the shower stall, the door clicking to announce her departure and forcing him to snap his head up from where it was resting on the tile of the wall, his skin burning and pruned.

"Damn you." He said aloud, finishing up quickly and wrapping a towel around himself before stepping out of the shower to prepare for a day of pure hell.

"You look like hell." Chase offered as he stepped into the conference room an hour later.

"Why, how considerate of you to volunteer clinic hours for your sick supervisor." He replied, throwing him his name tag as a smile grew across Foreman's features.

"You've got a consult with Dr. Hurst today." House informed him, walking to the coffee pot and pouring himself half a cup, coffee had not been the same since she had left.

"What about our patient?"

"I'm sorry, I thought _I_ was the _head_ of diagnostics." He barked. "I am perfectly capable of keeping an eye on him, he's dismissed tomorrow anyway."

"Surgery went well?"

"Yes." He replied simply as he took a seat, throwing his cane on the chair next to him.

"What time did you get home?"

"Mom! I told you I had to go to Cuddy's sleepover." He replied as he rolled his eyes. "Bye." Foreman took to the hint and made a quick exit from the room, as eager to get away from him as he was to get of him. Pulling a chair out from the table House pulled out his PSP to allow his coffee to cool on the table. The game engrossed him and after completing the first level he saved his progress and put it down long enough to swallow down the bitter coffee that Chase had undoubtedly made. After two sips he counted the attempt a loss and began the second level of his game. Halfway through he heard the door being pushed open but didn't bother looking up.

"House." Looking up to see the serious expression on Wilson's face he lay the game down, looking inquisitively at his friend.

"What?" He snapped. "You're interrupting my game."

"It's Cameron."

"She doesn't work here anymore."

"Would you quit being such a smart ass for one fucking moment of your life." Wilson snapped back, placing his hand on his forehead and sighing.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"Cuddy just received a phone call from Yule…Cameron was involved in a five car pile up two days ago and was bleeding internally. They managed to stop the bleeding but she's slipped into a pain induced coma." Shock registered his features as Wilson continued. "They've called her family in…Cuddy's getting ready to leave…" He trailed off and cleared his throat.

In a moment House was on his feet and limping out the door. Stepping to the elevator and pressing the button in and holding it he watched the numbers move up and then halt before becoming frustrated and taking the door to the stairs.

"House!" Wilson called, rushing to keep up with his friend who was moving down the stairs as if he didn't have a bum leg. "Let me drive you, you're in no condition to drive." House remained silent as he cleared the stairs, his leg screaming in agony but his mind refusing to process the pain.

Reaching the lobby floor in less than a minute House walked swiftly out the front door and to his motorcycle, slamming his cane into its holster and jumping on as Jimmy finally caught up. "Let me drive you…" One look from House told him all that he needed to know and fumbling for the keys in his pocket he could only walk towards his own car on the other side of the parking lot. "I'm right behind you." His words however were drowned out by the roar of House's bike as he sped out of the parking lot.

A/N: Stupid? Delete the chapter and start over? Concept used too much in other fics? Let me know, that's the only way I know to continue and if ANYONE would be willing to beta the next chapter give me a holler, I would really appreciate the help.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I know that it was been WAY too long since I last updated any of my stories but there has been a lot going out. Senior Trip (NYC and DC, kick ass), prom, graduation, graduation parties, work, and church have all interfered. I am officially back though and intend on updating all my House fics by the end of the week. Hope it was worth the wait, you won't fail to tell me if it wasn't.

A/N: This chapter isn't that long. I'm now going a TOTALLY different direction than I intended, so enjoy.

The shapes and forms of the objects around him were distorted and blurred in the way that only occurs when you're scared beyond belief. The road behind and before him was only a paved way to her, the source of this _feeling_. This _feeling_ that emitted the sweat pouring from his face, the clenching that stabbed his abdomen like a million six inch needles, and the sound of his racing heart that reverberated in his ears louder than the sound of his bike. Maneuvering expertly throughout heightening noon traffic, he arrived at the hospital in less than half the time it would take a person travelling ten miles over the speed limit. Revving the engine he found a parking spot on the sidewalk and thanked all things holy that Cuddy had allotted him with an unrestricted license plate for both the bike and Corvette. Ignoring the excruciating pain shooting up his leg from becoming stationary so quickly he limped through the front door of the hospital.

Like the road had been, the people around him were nothing but blurs as he zeroed in on the elevators and limped to them. The elevator opened to an empty cart as soon as he stepped to it and he vaguely realized that he had forgotten his cane. Pressing the button for the third floor he sighed and cursed, rubbing his eyes and attempting in vain to ignore the panic now sweeping through him. He felt his breath hitch as his throat constrict as he let out an explosive gasp after arriving on the third floor, completely unaware that he had been holding his breath.

Before he knew what he was doing his legs were moving towards the nurse's station and he soon found himself staring at a distraught looking nurse. "Yes?" She asked, clearly busy. Cotton mouth chose to attack him at this moment and he stared at the woman a moment before licking his lips and swallowing hard in an attempt to form saliva.

"Allison Cameron." He choked out, staring down at the files scattered across the desk in a futile attempt to learn the information this nurse apparently didn't have right off.

"Are you a relative of Ms. Cameron's?" She asked, busily looking through the assorted stacks of files.

"No…I used to be her boss." He swallowed hard as the woman frowned at a chart.

"I'm sorry but I can't disclose information to anyone not related to Ms. Cameron."

"5 foot, 6 inches tall, blue/green eyes, brunette, social security number is 520-71-5803, immunologist by profession, birthmark beneath her shoulder blade in the form of a horizontal line, wears a size eight and a half in shoes, and has a b and a half cup…" He barked, his eyes pleading with her. "I know her as well as any family member."

"The family has asked that non-related persons wait until the visitation before viewing the body." The nurse sighed, genuinely sorry for the man before her. His eyes twitched visibly as he slowly backed from her. "I'm sorry sir, I really am, but it's family who has precedence here…" The woman eyed him as he limped away towards the stairs, throwing open the door and cutting off the rest of her explanation.

As the door clicked shut behind him he slumped to the floor, grasping a hand rail so hard that the whole of his hand was white and shaking. His body followed suit, the shaking too much to handle as he began to sob. "It's my fault." Although tears filled his eyes none fell, his eyes vacant as he stared down the stairs before him but not seeing a thing. "Why did I let her leave?" He whispered these words to himself like a mantra, he remained still and staring as someone opened the door behind him.

"Are you alright?" He heard the person ask, feeling them stoop on the floor beside him, a gentle hand attempting to shake him back to reality…

"House!" Wilson called, waving a hand in front of his friend. At this motion House snapped his head up from the table, looking up to find himself back at his office.

"How did I get here?"

"I think you drove in this morning." Wilson replied, looking concerned for his friend. "What's with you lately?"

"Where's Cameron?" He asked, looking through the glass walls of the conference room at the bustling of nurse's and doctors at Princeton Plainsboro.

"She's at Penn, House, where she's been for the past two months."

"She didn't die in the pile up?" He asked, finally looking at his friend.

"What pile up, House, are you high? Did you take something?" He asked, grabbing his face and examining his eyes carefully.

"Gotcha." House smirked, slapping away Wilson's hands and standing to his feet.

"Why do you pull shit like that?" Wilson sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"To see you get all worried. Your like a mother hen that's lost one of her chicks." He smirked.

"Dreaming about Cameron?" His friend asked knowingly.

"No."

"Stacy?"

"Hell no!"

"Then who were you talking about?" An inquisitive look covered Wilson's face as he watched House attempt to blow this one off.

"What are _you_ talking about?" He barked, grabbing his cane and standing to his feet.

"When I first came in you said and I quote, "Why did I let her leave?", I just assumed you were dreaming about Cameron."

"First of all I didn't ask her to leave, she left on her own. She's a grown woman who decided on her own where to seek employment."

"That was never called into question House, it was you that said it, not me."

"I honestly don't remember what I was dreaming." He replied, moving towards the door.

"I hate that, when you can't remember what you dream just after you dream it." Wilson added, following his friend out the door.

"I would love to forget." House whispered, limping down the hallway towards the john.

"I need some time off." He demanded as he stepped into Cuddy's office an hour later.

"You're _requesting_ time off?" She asked, looking to him with eyes that geld confusion.

"Yes, I want to take voluntary vacation time." He replied, standing just inside her office.

"What brought this on?"

"Does it matter, I just want some time off!" He barked, glaring at her.

"No, it doesn't matter, you have too much accumulated as it is, how long do you want?"

"A week." He sighed, looking down at the floor.

"Just a week?" His response was a nod and she continued. "Are you planning on leaving town, we may need you if a patient comes in."

"You can call me on my cell, I'll be around, I just need some time away from here."

"Alright then, when do you want to start?"

"Now." He replied easily, turning and leaving the office as abruptly as he had entered.

A/N: Whoever sent me the PM saying they would beta, e-mail me again, I deleted all my e-mail from b-cuz my mom is a snoop and doesn't know I have an account on here and she would die if she read the shit I've wrote/am writing, so if you don't care send me a holler, the next chapter is in the works. And as always REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: NOT MINE

"Cut it out, House." He told himself as he stepped through the door of his apartment three hours later.

"You refer to yourself as House?" A voice asked from the couch before turning to face him.

"What the hell are you doing here, why won't you leave me alone?"

"What are you talking about?" She replied sheepishly, standing and walking to him.

"Get the hell away from me!" He barked, closing his eyes and backing himself against the door.

"Open your eyes House, it's only me." She whispered, running a hand along his jaw. His right hand reached to grasp hers, moving it back to her side as he side stepped her and walked into his living room, reaching for the scotch that was waiting on the piano.

"I'm going crazy." He murmured, taking a shot of the whiskey straight from the bottle and wincing slightly as the liquid traveled down his throat.

"You're not crazy." She replied, stepping back towards him and pinning him against the piano. "This is what you want."

"How the hell is being tormented enjoyable?"

"What, don't like a taste of your own medicine?" She asked, staring into his eyes and stepping closer to him, but still not touching.

"I'm real." He replied, placing the bottle of scotch back on the table and grasping his chest. "You're not." With a wary hand he reached out and touched her, jumping slightly when he felt her hot skin against his own shaky hand. "Why are you doing this to me?" He whispered, dropping his head and letting his hand trail down to her hip before returning it to his own side.

"I've told you before that I am not here to torture you, you conjure me, I'm only what you want me to be." He turned from her then, grabbing the scotch and swigging again, this time appreciative of the burning in this throat.

"I want you to go away." He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"Then I'm gone." She replied, giving his back side a lingering look and turning for the door.

"Why are you taking the door?" He asked, turning to see her with a hand on the door.

"Too reminiscent of two months ago for you? I would have stayed…"

"**I** was not the one who made you go, you _chose_ to go. I could care less one way or the other."

"Then why are you talking to me now?" She asked, letting the question linger in the air a moment before exiting his apartment. With an explosive gasp House sat on his piano bench, holding his hand in his hand and feeling his blood course throughout his body and his heart pulsate in his ears. Reaching into the pocket of his coat he pulled out his cell from his it and pressed number three on his speed dial.

"I need to talk to you….in person…bring food and booze….yeah…" Flipping the phone shut he sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to avoid the headache beginning to form behind his eyes.

Wilson rushed through the front door of House's condo with a bag of Chinese and bottles of scotch and Belvedere vodka. "You better have brought booze." House called from his position on the couch where he sat watching Sponge Bob Square Pants.

"Of course." Wilson replied as he maneuvered to the coffee table where he laid the goods. Silently House nodded his thanks and reached for the food, picking a container and chopsticks and going to town. Wilson followed suit, knowing that he'd talk after a little alcohol began coursing through him. "Cuddy told me you took voluntary vacation time."

"Small hospital." House shrugged as Wilson opened the second container and began eating as well.

"Why did you do it?" He asked as House opened the scotch and handed Wilson the vodka.

"I needed some time away." He replied simply, giving Wilson no hint as to why he had taken the vacation.

"You're obviously not going away…"

"From the hospital…" House exclaimed. "From _her._"

"Cuddy?" His friend asked, taking a swig of his vodka. He watched as House only smirked and shook his head.

"Cameron." He bitterly replied.

"House, Cameron's not even there anymore."

"Yes she is, she's everywhere. The conference room, my office, the coffee pot, my home…she won't disappear." Wilson's face turned from confusion to worry as he eyed his friend.

"You're going to have to explain that further House. She's been gone for almost three months now, how is she still there?"

"Do you remember when I got shot?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember how I dreamed that I was hallucinating?"

"Yes." He replied again.

"I'm hallucinating about her." He informed him, chugging at his scotch and throwing the now empty container on the table in front of him.

"How long?"

"About a month now. It wasn't so bad at first, I thought they were only wet dreams, that's how they started out. I would hurry to get home and sleep so I could dream…"

"Nice…" Wilson replied, unable to control the smile that popped up on his face.

"Not nice." House exclaimed, turning his face to meet Wilson's, his eyes wide with an expression James could not identify. "After about a week I would see her when I was fully and without a doubt conscious. I would touch her and she would feel as real to me as that bottle in your hand."

Wilson remained quiet for a moment before asking. "What does she say, what do you do?"

"She keeps asking me why I let her leave." He begins, taking large sips from his bottle as he explains. "She asks me why I didn't stop her the night she left from here. She teases me, she kisses me, she tells me that she's not real, that she's all in my head, that I can make her go away, that I'm bringing her here. You remember when you asked me who I was talking about?" Wilson nodded. "I dreamed that you had came into my office and told me that she had been in a car crash and that they had called her family in. I went to her and she was gone and I broke down…that's when you saw me."

"You thought she was dead?" He inquired.

"I could feel it in my bones, the remorse, the anger with myself that I had let her go, I felt it after you found me as if it were real, as if she was really dead. I'm going crazy."

"You're not going crazy." Wilson replied, reaching the halfway mark at his fifth of vodka.

"Then what the fuck would you call it."

"You're in love House, plain and simple. You love her and your mind is playing tricks on you to get you to admit it to yourself."

"I admitted two weeks after she left."

"You did?"

"I know that I love her, but I can't let her know that. She'd use it against me, she'd break me."

"She's not Stacy!" Wilson exclaimed, his words becoming slightly slurred as he undid his tie. "She loves you House, she would never hurt you."

"I thought the same way about Stacy." House replied, downing more booze and kicking his feet up on the coffee table before leaning his head back to stare at his ceiling. "I can't tell her."

"So you're going to let her stay away?" Wilson asked, sitting up on the couch and glaring at his friend.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" House fired back, looking at him.

"Call her and tell her to come back."

"Why would she after what happened that night?"

"What did happen that night?"

"What _did_ happen that night?"

"I didn't tell you?" He asked, finishing off his bottle and placing it on the middle cushion of the couch.

"No."

"She came over here to tell me that she was leaving, that her letter of resignation was for real. She said she wasn't going to stick around if I was going to keep trying to "kill" myself. I told her that she would be back, that she couldn't stay away from me."

"And?" Wilson urged, placing the small remainder of his vodka on the coffee table.

"I made a pass at her, she had kissed me earlier, trying to get a blood sample, great lips, tastes like….something out of this world….anyway, I pulled her to me and she backed away, told me that when I got off Vicodin to give her a call."

"So get off the Vicodin."

"I'm in pain!" House shouted, grabbing Wilson's drink and finishing it.

"It's in your head. You were clean for months after you were shot."

"How many times do I have to tell you people that I couldn't feel any pain?"

"Then why did you start back on it? You missed the buzz that came from it that you couldn't get from alcohol or prostitutes so you started back." Wilson fired at him, spreading his legs out across the coffee table.

"Bull shit!"

"Don't bull shit me House, you know it's the truth." They remained in silence for a few moments before House cleared his throat and broke it.

"Aren't you going to tell me how to stop hallucinating, write a script, something?"

"The only way to stop them is to see her. Call her. Hell, e-mail her. Just come into contact with her and see how she's doing. I take it you haven't spoken with her since that night?" House only shook his head.

"Then e-mail her, tell her you miss her, see what happens from there."

"And if she tells me to fuck off and I keep hallucinating?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." He shrugged, allowing his head to tilt over to watch House who was staring out his window into the night.

A/N: It's been a while, but I didn't know where to take it from here, let's just see how it goes, as always, REVIEW!!!!!!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: NOT MINE…..

Cameron's day had passed uneventfully…again. There had been only one patient for Yule since she had began her position sixty seven days ago, it seemed as though all diagnostic cases within the area went to House. As she took a seat in her seat and unlocked her lap top she gasped when she saw an e-mail from House in her inbox. For a moment she only stared at it, her heart rate increasing so that she was sure it would skip out of her chest, and her breaths becoming rapid.

She hadn't heard from the man in two months and had convinced herself that she did not care for him. Who was she trying to kid? She had been more miserable the past two months than she had ever been while working for House and she was not insulted daily, she didn't do two shifts of clinic duty, and she didn't have to worry about any sexual tension between her and her new boss. By any means she should be happy, but she could not make herself happy and she had convinced herself that nothing here could make her happy. Looking at her lap top she was surprised that a smile had spread across her face and she wasted no more time in opening the file.

_To: a. Hey_

_Hey_

"That's it?" She said aloud, clearly confused at what she was seeing. "Why even write it?" She asked herself. "All of it was in the subject heading." Sinking visibly in her chair she looked to the clock which read four and debated on what to do. She could simply write the word hey back and send it to him, let him see that she was unaffected by the little conversation that he was hoping to hold with her, or she could delete the file and pretend that she had never seen it.

Curiosity killed the cat, however, and it took her a moment to hit reply and begin typing her message.

_To: a. RE: Hey_

_Hey._

Glaring at the semi-blank screen she contemplated again on sending something as meager as that. She had made it clear to him that she did not want to hear from him again unless he had kicked the pills and talking to Wilson a week ago had let her know that those plans were not in the making. Sighing she pressed send and let out a large breath of air, a sinking feeling covering her stomach as she went back to her inbox to begin returning other e-mails, convincing herself that that would be the last she would hear from him in a while. You could imagine her surprise when her inbox refreshed itself and told her that she had received another message. She gasped and didn't hesitate in opening it up.

'_Why aren't you working? Pick up your phone.'_

"And call you?" She asked the computer aloud. "I don't think-" She jumped slightly when she heard her cell phone begin ringing in her pocket. Her hands began to shake however when she looked down and saw House's name flashing across her phone. '_He knows I'm here, he answered right back.' _She told herself. _'It's now or never.'_ She flipped the phone open and waited a moment before greeting him with a sigh. "Hey."

A/N: Not a large chapter but better than nothing for a story that has been inactive for so long. Another update coming on Sunday evening, look for it to be done by next Sunday. Thanks to those of you who read this chapter, now review, even if it is to tell me it sucked.


	6. Chapter 6

Alright children, ALL of my stories for House will be finished by Christmas and then I am taking a short sabbatical so that I can finish the Gilmore Girls stuff that I started two years ago and lost steam to finish, I have a problem with following through and refuse to let them go anymore. Here is the next installment of Call Me When You're Sober.

A/N: Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers who took the time to review even though I hadn't updated in a while. I appreciate it and know that you that did so were the motivation to get me writing on this fic. Thanks once again.

Disclaimer: House M.D. and all its characters do not belong to me. However this story and its contents do, so fuck off.

"_Hey."_

"Hello." He replied, swirling around in his chair and propping his legs up on his desk. There was a long pause in which neither could think of the right thing to say, this was the part where Cameron had always woke up. "I can't give up the Vicodin you know." He told her, his tone low.

"I know that." She sighed, rubbing her hands across her forehead. '_No, how have you been? How's the new boss? New job? Nothing, straight to the bad shit.'_ She thought to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Then why the hell did you leave?" He growled.

"Because I wanted you to admit that you had a problem, you wanted a surgical procedure that would keep you permanently high House, which is addiction."

"I don't need you to tell me that I have a problem, I know I do. That's why I didn't have the procedure done."

"We sent in the test results to the hospital!" Cameron shrieked. "They wouldn't have done the procedure."

"That's not what I mean…" He started, a growl of frustration escaping his lips as he heard her heavy breaths over the phone. "I'm not doing this on the phone." She heard him mumble. "I'm sorry I called." With that the call ended and Cameron was left to stare at it. Her fingers automatically dialed a number she had come to know so well the past three years but she only let it ring once before hanging up.

"He wants to be a baby, let him be a baby." She nodded, standing to her feet and closing her lap top before walking out of the office, needing to find somewhere that she could release her frustration so that six o'clock would come much quicker than the two hours away that it was.

Her mind was still reeling from their conversation as she arrived home some three hours later, traffic having been much worse due to a five car pile up on a turn pike that she had to take to get home. Dropping her purse just inside her door she turned on the light to the living room and began to unbutton her blouse. A low whistle from the other side of the room caused her head to snap up and her eyes to take on a look of fear, surprise, and then anger at the person sitting on her couch. "How the hell did you get in here?" She asked, her voice hoarse due to the fact that her stomach was still in her throat from her fear.

"You always leave a spare on the door frame outside; you did while you were in Princeton." He shrugged, standing to his feet and looking at her.

"Ok then, what are you doing here?"

"I told you that I didn't want to argue over the phone so I came here."

"You came here just so we could get in an argument?"

"No, I came here to win an argument and stroke my ego with the fact."

"Oh really?" She asked, determination entering her eyes along with the anger that she had kept stored up since she had left Princeton.

"Yes." He replied silently, thumping his cane on the floor twice before looking her straight in the eyes. "What makes it better is that look that you are carrying. The fact that you look so determined tells me that you are going to put up one hell of a fight, but I will still be right."

"I haven't seen you for over three months and the first time you see me you have to make an ass out of yourself, don't you?" She hissed.

"No." He replied simply. "Besides, I've seen you everyday for the past three months." The look on her face told him that he had confused her and he chose to save that conversation for after and delve right into the matter at hand. "I am addicted to Vicodin." He stated simply, moving his gaze down to his leg before continuing. "I am in constant pain and without them I would not be able to function at all."

"I know that." She said, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him. "But it is manageable with the Vicodin. Why the hell would you even consider getting that surgery-"

"Hello!" He interrupted. "Constant, searing pain."

"That's no excuse." She replied, stepping closer to him.

"You say that because you don't live with it. There are times when I feel like I should just amputate the damn thing, get a prosthetic leg, more accuracy for when I want to hit Chase." He paused for dramatic effect and when he saw that she was not amused in the slightest, he continued. "But like I said before, I wouldn't have gone through with it even if the three of you hadn't figured me out." He watched as she opened her mouth to speak, but no words escaped her mouth. He took a deep breath before deciding to elaborate.

"The way you three responded when you found the lab results, the way you kissed me so that you could get a sample, your persistence. The way you looked at me when you were leaving my apartment, the look of relief that your face held when you first knocked on the door of my flat…. I felt like shit the whole time you were doing those tests. I knew that the three of you would figure it out; you'd worked too long for me not to. I think that in a way I wanted you to." He admitted.

"House…." She sighed, a hand running to the back of her neck to rub it gently as she looked on at him.

"I saw how the news affected the three of you, even Wilson. Even if you hadn't found the truth, I wouldn't have gotten on that plane that morning….I couldn't."

"How can you expect me to believe that?" She asked, ignoring the look of pain she thought she saw cross his face. "You just got through telling me that you are in constant pain and I know that you are, but if the pain was that intense then, if it was getting so bad that you would plan something that elaborate…" She trailed off, trying to think of the words to say. "You took your time in setting that up." She told him, watching as he took a step closer to her, her eyes on the cane that rested in his right hand. "If you take the time to do something, you follow through, you always do."

"I wouldn't have." He told her, advancing still towards her before coming to a stop a mere six inches away from her, feeling the heat emanating from her body.

"I can't know that." She told him, breaking his gaze and staring down at the floor and running her fingers through her hair before feeling a pair of hands at her side pulling her to him…

A/N: A cliffhanger! YAY! Review and it will be updated soon.


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